


Metastasis

by Outside_Context_Problem



Series: The Troll War [10]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: 10 portions plot to 90 portions character introspective, Multi, Those forgotten by my stream of words, Vignettes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-11-12 14:20:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Outside_Context_Problem/pseuds/Outside_Context_Problem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's spreading, this disease. Human and troll alike.</p><p>----------------------</p><p>Short point-of-view segments from characters who haven't had (any/recent) POV stories in Troll War. Contains some plot, not advised to skip. Skimming works, skim if you're bored by any of this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Site I: Heir of Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope forms in the absence of power, sustains in its growth, and dies in its fulfillment.
> 
> That must be changed.

You know fear.

Anyone who thinks you're so puffed up, so stupid and prideful that you can't feel fear, you can't doubt - they don't know you.

John has never, once, suggested anything like that. Neither has Vris. They hate you, you hate them, but there's no denial involved.

They know who Eridan Ampora is.

You've been hiding since this war began; since before that, since Fef knew her day to challenge or hide was coming. You took that, you picked that, cuz it _was_ the harder way to do things.

'cuz you got, even back then, that you couldn't always trust your instincts. It was Fef that hammered it into ya, of course. Back when you were gettin' so gogdamn jealous of Sol. When she first started gettin' the dreams and came up with new ways fer her lusus ta feed.

She told you that ya _needed_ a code. A way of doin' things that ya couldn't just drop. An anchor. You couldn't disagree. Not really, not after what you an' Vris had done, had almost done.

So yer princess had given ya a quest an' you'd be a reel shitty morail not ta at least try.

You gave it a sweep.

Touching the depths where things less massive but a _lot_ less sedentary than Gl'bgoyb lived, goin' right down with Fef next to her maw ta touch and scoop the detritus of a thousand thousand sweeps of feedin', even crackin the unused, sealed, lost an' forbidden servers of the Empire with Sol (and gog, you two were black as charcoal then, especially when he was tryin' ta teach you programmin').

You hunted and you trawled an' you _read_ like you never had before. You read about duties an' honor, codes an' justice, the banned and the cull-kissin' ideas.

Sometimes ya talked. To Vris, Sol, Kar, even Eq. But not even Fef _reely_ understood th' quest she put ya on. 'cuz in the end it reely was _your_ quest.

An' you learned so fuckin' much an' none of it did a damn thing. Fragments a' histories an' philosophies an' every bit a' lost knowledge an' belief you could get yet grubbin' mitts on. But it wasn't what you were huntin' for.

Not 'till they showed. Not 'till they touched th' Furthest Ring, an' not just in dreams, openin' the way for Gl'bgoyb to thrust you an' Fef through.

So yeah, yer life is due to th' humans as much as Kar's, even if ya sometimes wanna pretend otherwise. They were yer triggers, even if ya didn't meet 'em for a sweep afta that. Even if you rescued Sol, and Ter, and became a god, without ever meetin' one.

Yer, Eridan Ampora, Heir of Hope, 'cuz the humans exist.

You gotta wonder sometimes if you woulda been pushed to the bottom like you were if they hadn't been around. If you woulda been compressed to your most unbreakable like you been.

In th' end it don't matter. On account a' they _are_ here, an' ya got Johnny an' Vris on yer own damn merits.

An' you got a code, an' it ain't just a human one. You know maybe yer kismeses don't agree (hah!), but ya got a focus.

Bein' a god ain't easy.

You don't see it that way anyhow. You see obligation, duty, an' all that stuff the Sufferers think their boy is doin' after his death (an', you admit, the stuff Kar was doin' before he ascended) - that's yer life now. No more time ta run around like a privateer, no more room fer larval games like killin' all the landdwellers. Just duty an' vision an' need.

An' John.

Hell if you two don't fight. A'course the first time he punched, you clawed, an' he kissed, ya knew yer glands ran black for him.

But he _gets_ why ya fight. An' he don't _ever_ suggest yer way a' lookin' at things don't matter. He says yer wrong, you say yer right, an' the two of ya argue about first principles fer an entire night.

You feel proud when he gets the better of ya. You know Eq and Nep don't really get that, but you'd think they would. You never really wanted John on yer side. He'd be terrible at it! He's th' self-effacin' kinda god at heart. A willin' hero but a reluctant deity, an' you'd never see him change.

Yer afraid that you might, but then, ya got bigger things ta fear.

Galaxy endin' and all that.

 

You find John on the bridge, about the only one not staring at the fucked-up green stars stars constantly. He's deep into his chair, eyes shut, mouth kinda slack. Little bit of drool (weird how so many human fluids are clear). You wipe that away gently, run a claw along his cheek, careful not to cut. Not that he'd notice, freak that he is, but you never hurt your kismesis until he asks fer it. In the mean time, least you can do is brush those sloppy strands of hair outta his face. He's been a long-ass time without a Earthfleet chop. It's almost down to his shoulders in some parts.

He trembles, between a shiver and ecstasy (you'd know, you've seen him in both), and opens those ocean-blue eyes. "Well, _that's_ taken care of."

"Johnny boy, I get that yer playin' mystery man, but you ever plan ta let us know what's up?"

He smiles, and it is _all disguise_. Oh yeah, Johnny's nice and friendly and non-predatory. Right up 'till he decides he don't feel like it. "I had a mind-state taking care of some business on Earth. The Empire is… off the table."

You lean back, balance on his chair arm, to hide your shock. "'scuse me?"

"Done. Finished." He shrugs. "Or at least, no longer our concern."

"You're wantin' us to go after the Condesce an' Scratch."

His eyes flicker to the peeled-open hull, to the green galaxy around you. "Nope. They moved a step forward, we move a step up."

John stands.

It's a slow, relaxed process, graceful enough you can see Nep's influence, strong enough you can see Eq's, easy enough you can see his Dad's. Oh, and you _knew_ him the minute ya saw him. John can protest what he likes, but the boy's got god in his blood. "I'm not too sure our friends on the Battleship Condescension are going to be around any more."

"You think- I don't get it, Johnny."

Jegus. Yeah, the fuckin' Imperial _nooksniffers_ who first looked at humans and saw a prey race hafta be the biggest bunch of empty-headed trolls to ever die. That fuckin' smile, those fuckin' teeth. Maybe John ain't gonna be tearin' off nobody's face with 'em today but it sure as fuck ain't below him.

"Not every god's as conscientious as you, Dan. Sometimes you get a Cronus, and things get positively… _fratricidal_." John's hand against the cockpit glass wouldn't worry you so much if you didn't know what he can do with what's out there.

You panic.

You flood John with hope, doing everything you can to break yerself open and just spill into him.

John chuckles. John laughs. John cackles. John howls. "Eridan!" he shouts, over rising winds. "I'm not sure inflating my ego is what you wanted to do."

You try to step towards him, cut off the flow, take it back - but you're too late.

Far too late.

Trudging through winds that clutch and rip at you, arms in front of your space, your view of John is shrouded and flickering.

You see him turn around, put both hands on the transparent hull of the ship.

You see the _**Sovereign Slayer**_ turn from paralleling the galactic spiral to facing it head on.

You see things start to move.

_ vvision bounded by the speed of light, so wwhat i see is wwhat's already happened. only the vview from the green stars wwas faster than light, so wwhat do i see noww… _

You see John. You see John Egbert, Prince of Breath, with all doubt and all fear subsided below his hope.

And you see your ship getting faster and faster on its way to… John alone knows.

You still know fear. But not now. Not in this place.

It takes a lot of fighting to get to the forerail with John. But when you get there, his hand drops and falls over yours.

"Stay with me, Dan," he exhales through gritted teeth.

"Always, Johnny. To the end a' all this."

"Past that," John smiles. He's cryin'. But he smiles. "Far past."


	2. Site II: Phage of Doom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surviving only on doom can taint the mind. Sometimes it takes a coward's option to make you overcome yourself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reaaaallly short chapter, but this is as much engagement/sympathy you're ever gonna see me show for Sollux. He just doesn't do it for me (paraTactician's crazy-ass cyberpunk story is an exception, but it's friggin _paraTactician_ , no duh every character will be interesting).

You never broke. Not once. Not when VS tried to use you against TZ, not when the adults descended to harvest the crop of your generation from Alternia, not when you were caged and used, not when ED fucking Ampora had to be the one to rescue you, and not when FF told you to stick your head in her lusus's beak.

But you're close to breaking now.

_why won't AA talk two you?_

_iitth that iin2ufferable douthbag thtriider. he'2 blockiing her. keeping her away from you._

You're not sulking, dammit, you're brooding.

At least the Terrans know how to build a ship. FTL drone platforms, ansible quantum entanglement comms, and full-interface access to the entire rebel/alien net.

You haven't touched that. You don't feel like being part of a machine any time in the next, say, two billion sweeps.

You figure you can pull that off. You're the Phage of Doom. You _eat_ the stuff. Literally. You've eaten 'till you were engorged, in the past; when you had to hide FF and her giant creepy lusus that _wa2 alway2 thtariing at you (calm down calm down you're not even in the 2ame galaxthy a2 it)_. It's barely even conscious, you just feel it coming and devour.

That scares the gogdamn undigested nutrient matter out of you sometimes. Half of the times. When you can't keep yourself from making the connection, from thinking of this raw power as _just another cage, **just another prison!!**_

_ whoa dude, you need two calm the fuck down. you're not there anymore, remember everythiing ff put you through two get you out? _

But you know the sparking, the wrenching feeling of doom headed your way, and you know the neural trigger to devour it.

You don't know what to do when it dodges. You try anyway. You can slow it down. Force it to take alternate routes.

Until, for an eternity frozen in a temporal quanta, a hand emerges from the air and grabs you.

"What even _is_ it with you and the timewarp-fighting?"

You open your perception-bulbs and _see_.

Grayness. The ship, the galaxy, in shifting spirals of alternate immobility/blinding speed. Frozen moments become millennia of movement forward or back, only to freeze again. It extends far beyond your perception in every manner, an overwhelming chaos whose tantalizing hints at order only further madden you.

You feel swollen the moment you enter it. Tendrils of time, places long since and long eons ahead, drift towards you and are devoured in crackling motes of light.

And through it all sickly green motes pervade, a green gloom only half-touched by the bichromatic grayscale that forms the basis of this place.

The one exception stands before you.

Strider.

what the fuck ii2 thii2, thriider? an attack? iit'2 a pretty sad one iif thath'2 the ca2e.   
what possible reason do i have to attack you, captor? i would have to be out of my fucking mind to go starting some shit with my crew in the face of this

You muster a response, prep twin cannons of riighteou2 iindiignatiion, and stumble. You can't survive with fal2e iillusiions, and you can't do anything with your doom but eat it.

. . what do you want?   
i need help  
youre kinda the motherfucking best there is at fighting the end of all time  
and thats what were facing

You continue to vortex the null-time around you, siphoning in portions damaged, dying, and doomed. Strider, arms crossed, leaning back against <something>, gives a half-bloodpumpered shrug and tilts his head down a little.

need you to save aradia

. . what?

. . what??   
the timestream is limited  
theres no future and its coming back  
outside of time i can see the past but nothing beyond the final fight ahead  
its the end  
doom  
your thing  
save her  
i know you dont give a fuck about me and im not asking you to  
zero fucks are necessary about anyone but aradia  
they can pull it off or not  
but shes…

He pockets his shades, and his eyes are quavering.

this aint personal  
i love her god i do but saving her for love would be bullshit  
like i dont trust her enough to save herself  
no fuck that  
save her because SHE MATTERS  
more than me more than you more than john even  
i dont know whats on the other side of that barrier  
if times broken or just gone or whatever  
but i know aradia is the only one who has any chance of making it right over there  
so yeah for the sake of the universe maybe you can keep her alive?

Fuck! Fucking insufferable-! Sucks sucks.

You can't hate this. And you can't take advantage of it. Even if you could get to a Last Two Genetic Donors In The Galaxy, even if you could keep AA from finding out what Strider asked for, _you_ would be the iin2ufferable douchebag for doing it, and you'd know.

He's forced you to be a hero.

alriight, ii'll do it. but you owe me 2omethiing two 2trider   
hit me   
2o kk tellth me you were a troll for a couple 2weeps untiil you changed back two your real 2peciieth.   
sright   
teach me how.

He raises his head a bit, his bright candy-red eyes meet yours, and he nods just once.

The green <all-suddenly> pulses, pushing out of the constraining spirals.

but were gonna have to do this fast  
im out of time


	3. Site III: Force of Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mind is a tool, but it is the most treacherous one. It can destroy its owner at the same time as it performs its function.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuckit, every one of these is gonna be <1000 words unless I say otherwise. Gotta get on with the _plot_ , for fuck's sake.

You are whole.

You were broken, but now you are whole.

You tell yourself this, but your actions prove your words a lie.

You F33L BL1ND.

You hit the mat hard, and don't move.

A massive hand lifts you. "I apologize if I hit you too hard, Pyrope. I believe I had pulled my punches sufficiently, but I may have been in error."

You manage to keep your feet under you when Equius sets you down, but your mind is still spinning. He keeps hitting you. Neither of you is in Ascent, but you don't think matching Force against Rogue, Mind against Void, would do you any good.

You used to be able to dance on the edge of Vriska's sword. Now you can't dodge a punch from a brute.

=--= You appear apprehensive.   
BR1LL14NT D3DUCT1ON! 1 4M SW3PT 4W4Y BY YOUR 1NS1GHTS!   
=--= Your barriers are unne%essary, Terezi. I'm not your quadrant-mate or competition for any of them. I have no reason to care if you are strong or weak. E%cept as a friend.   
J3GUS, D1D YOU 3V3R TH1NK L1K3 4 TROLL?   
=--= Abso100tly. I am still 100% Alternian. What I have never tr001y been is an imperialist.  
=--= Do you know what I believe the humans' greatest STRENGTH is?   
S1NC3 YOU'R3 4SK1NG M3 MORON1C RH3TOR1C4L QU3ST1ONS, 1'M GO1NG TO GU3SS 1T'S NOT SOM3TH1NG R4T1ON4L L1K3 SK1P M1SS1L3S.   
=--= Te%hnology is a product of people. Human thinking is a product of warring diversity.  
=--= Monoculture. That is what has stagnated the empire. It is a monstrous titan, and it is also very fragile.  
=--= I am a Just Troll. The Alternian Empire has no room for me. The Alternian species has vast room.  
=--= I am a lover of humans, but I do not worship them. I act in service to justice.   
HOW DO YOU 3V3N KNOW WH4T JUST1C3 1S?   
=--= Justice is reciprocity. Justice is guiding the weak. Justice is destroying the corrupt.  
=--= Justice is the ma%imization of STRENGTH in the universe.   
TH4T'S STUP1D.   
=--= It is only my personal appro%imation.  
=--= You will have to construct your own.

You mop your sweat off while you think. Zahhak smells disturbingly dry. You throw your towel down and snarl.

HOW??   
=--= I am not the person you should a%.  
=--= I believe you know who that is.

What a musclebeast's ass.

 

You shouldn't be here.

You have every right to be here.

You should run.

You're not afraid of her.

_YOU'R3 R34LLY B4D 4T LY1NG, PYROP3._

"Come in already, Terezi."

The worst part is how you hadn't even raised your hand to knock. Bluh bluh huge time witch.

You ~~stomp~~ shuffle in to Dave and Aradia's room. It's small and bare. The acrid smell of holograms makes up most of it. Images of small things. Trinkets from the past. Aradia's crowns and coins and wooden music boxes, Dave's compact disks and H.R. Giger paintings and frozen vibration matrices. All the past crap they left behind but can't shut up about.

The room's tiny, but with just Aradia it doesn't feel cramped. Dangerous, maybe, with her fists and feet flickering in and out like that, gone before you can even fully smell them.

Well, she has room to exercise here without hitting you.

If she wants to.

She stops her strikes at the air as quickly as she'd been making them, not even her steady breath betraying any cost of exertion.

The silence can't last more than two or three eternities.

"I was never afraid," she says, and her voice has a confidence you can only barely, distantly remember your voice possessing. "Not like you are now."

"Is that supposed to be insulting?" You muster the strongest fragments of yourself, settle for sarcasm where you would once have had wit.

"No. Envious."

If you were all, one, whole, you wouldn't be so focused inward that she could do this.

Aradia grabs you by the temples, fingers parting around your horns. "I had no fear because I was not alive. I was a puppet, Terezi, and I convinced myself that every order I took from the dead wasn't just _right_ , it was what I _wanted_."

She releases you. You have to work to keep from falling.

When you do move, it's slow. But it's not jerky. Not frenetic. Not conflicted.

You press your head to Aradia's collarbone and you weep into her shirt.

She wraps her arms around your back, and her startling warmth floods you.

im not capable of being a 'traditional' moirail   
TH4T'S NOT WH4T 1 N33D.   
what do you need terezi?   
4 LOT OF TH1NGS. 4 FR13ND, 1 GU3SS.

The ship doesn't lurch or jolt or shake. It just _shifts_ in a way that tells you something major has changed. Something that feels fast and urgent, rising in volume and gathering in tempo.

BUT R1GHT NOW 1 TH1NK 1 N33D 4 SCOURG3 S1ST3R.

Her teeth are blunt for a troll. Her psychic red glow makes up for it in her grin's menace.

i never thought youd ask.  
but i hope you like making a deadly last stand with your blushing newlywed moirail, terezi.   
1'D R34LLY PR3F3R TO D13 S4V1NG YOU.   
1T WOULD ONLY B3…   
JUST.


	4. Site IV: Seer of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The most intricate thing in the universe is life. If you can see and understand every single part of it, what **can't** you do?

It's funny, if anyone ever thinks about it. What's the hard part of seeing the future? Living beings. What's the mind, breath, heart? Functions of life.

_R-E-ELY, it's amazing t)(ey )(aven't guessed you're t)(e MAST--ERMIND yet._

Well, most of them.

"Mobassador's too close to the people. It goes one of two ways, Fef, they get corrupt or they get a counter-revolution by the opportunists."

Your ~~ears~~ ( _auricular SPONG--E clots, you're being proletarian now!_ ) are paying attention to his words, but your ganderbulbs are locked on that giant hammer in his arms.

You know the biggest mistake any Pexies can make is looking away from John Egbert for a minute. Especially if you're dueling him!

"Kick his ass, fish princess!"

"Vris, if I need cybernetic intestine replacements, you're not getting any genetic material recombination for a perigee!"

"You suck, John!"

You keep down your giggle and watch. Heart rate, neural activity, increased adenosine triphosphate, _second_ neurotransmitter spike.

You hook his hilt just below the hammerhead, ignoring the jabbing feint with the steel cap, and throw, using John's spin against him.

He hits the wall with the screech of bending metal.

Upside-down, lying in a cavity of a metal he designed to stand up to Equius, John raises his hand.

"You win."

It takes about ten minutes for you and Vriska to pry him out of there. You R--EELY do try to hold back your grin, but John is cracking up too by the time his head is out.

"Gosh, Fef, I can't imagine why anyone's worried about you."

John is really good when he deadpans. It's so finny when he and Eridan go at it. Eridan just keeps getting more and more worked up, you've never seen anyone else do that to him and it is perchfect.

Yikes. You need to get a handle on the fish puns, or nobody's going to take you seriously as a D--EMOCRATIC R-EPR-ES-ENTATIV-E. Plus there's the affiliation with your ANC---ESTOR, who is kind of evil evil evil. And hated. And the EN----EMY.

You admit she has you a little nervous. But that puts you in good company, because -EV-ERYON------E is nervous. Eridan's nervous. Even John is nervous. Even _Vriska_ is worried about the future!

It's not the fight, though. That would be totally different hormones and neurotransmitters! It's long-term FR-EAKING OUT.

So it's TIM-E to put the plan into action. They need to be distracted.

 

"Snare team is ready!" Kanaya will find then, and Jade's going to rip away their location.

"Castle team is prepared." Tavros can gather the stellar wind to lock you and your catch off from the rest of the school, and Vriska can make a good barrier into a perfect one.

"Kill team is go." You don't need to see John and Nepeta's vitals to know what they can do. Death dances on their fingers.

"Capture team is psyched!" You can see the mind act, but Terezi can understand it, and throw unbreakable bars in its path. Sollux eats fear, doubt, and doom - whatever your target or her allies throw at you.

"Morph team is set." Your job is the )(ARD-EST of course. You wouldn't have made a plan where it wasn't!

"Temporal team is." EXC-EPT maybe Dave and Aradia's job! Keeping whatever non-linear Scratch-echoes exist off your back is going to be hard enough, without the stuff you've D---EMANDED.

Well. You have very good reasons.

Equius (who has done reely well for himself!) just nods from his display. Snare, Castle, and everyone else has the ship.

You seven have Her Imperial Condescension to deal with.

 

There's a human saying that no plan lasts into IMPL-EM--ENTATION. It's a PR-E-ETTY smart saying. Better than the Alternian version, "any plan against Her Imperial Condescension will get you culled".

It also never ran into the planning of gods. You were RIPP---ED apart and put back together. S-E---EING every way it's going to go down is easy from your Olympian view.

Mostly.

 

the hell are these things? John kicks the heap of grey flesh and shell, leaning on the hilt of his resting hammer. spiracle and tracheae respiratory system.

:XX < multiple hearts Nepeta rumbles at the body of another, leaking a sickly black fluid.

never born  
grown Dave is actually touching one. Um. Maybe. Is it really _him_ touching when it's a shadowed echo-self of what he might have done? You'll have to ask Aradia!

S)(-E )(as something )(orribly close to my gift! You could tell from the moment you saw the bloated, amphibious never-trolls.

makes sense. has to be more active to have done this, but i gotta think a seer would've made something that'd last longer against us.

L1K3 WH4T, 1LLUSTR1OUS L34D3R? 4 L1V1NG PL4N3T?

John pauses and twists his lips around. well... yeah! it'd be nice to get a little recognition.

john i recognize you are my best bro who is not literally my bro and also that if you want to fight a living planet you are stupider than i thought was possible.

ii could do iit. Somehow you feel it is a personal failing that Sollux is the only adult troll you know who still wears a t-shirt and jeans constantly. Even when raiding the Battleship Condescension. You've been looking after him for SW--E--EPS and he's still not any better at dressing himself. Which would be fine if KANAYA WOULD G---ET OFF YOUR S)(-----ELL ABOUT IT. (<3<)

sollux buddy remember what we said about one step at a time no you are not fucking good enough to skip steps of recovery and jump straight to godhood He has a firm grip on Sollux, who is almost vibrating with excitement. That was UN--EXP-ECT-ED, but it's only taken a few nights for Dave to really get a grip on him. MAYB---E it was longer for Dave? But you guess being )(ALF-R---EEL MAT--ESPRITS with Gamzee can't be much easier than being moirails with Sollux!

i'm aware everyone might find it crazy for me to be saying this but maybe we should be paying attention?

You, of course, were not ---EXACTLY unaware of the CR-E-EPING growth of PUSTUL-ES on the dark, dark brown hull. You could feel every twisted pump of blood through the veins of the malformed life-construct. But you did get... DISTRACT----ED.

>:|| < hearts too far to hit!!!

P2IIONIIC2!!

Sollux is a blur, but he's not the only one. His counter-pulse - spears of blue and red towing waves of green and black - covers your left, but your right is a wall of shimmering red and a swirling purple-black vortex. Dave is only standing in one place, but that place is everywhere you look on the right side of the room.

The wave of psychic -EN--ERGY rattles the decking, smashes the hull, and breaks against your shielding.

FOUND H1M.

im cheating Aradia raises her arm to follow Terezi's, and everything in that direction becomes empty blackness. time is minus thirty thousand alternian sweeps  
well need air

on it. Thrust-step-thrust-step, and John throws a tunnel of air down the vacuum of historic space. go go go!

You can't say you've --EV--ER flown down a cyclone through empty space long before your species achieved spaceflight before!

now And you slam to a halt. Aradia flings both fists open, and you're here.

The throne chamber of the the Battleship Condescension.

Your ancestor doesn't bother to get up.

guppies

The trident gets waved, and the walls pulse. Red and blue light up behind her throne and your gift isn't needed to tell everyone that used to be a troll.

i knew you mantafuckas couldnt resist droppin in to gloach about your KRILL, but i didnt think you was that goddamn STUPID

She hurls her trident. John doesn't jump, and neither do you.

You do shoot it, spraying a torrential jet of _multiphasic perceptual-disruptive energy_ , which according to Rose (and your lusus) makes the grand weapon of the Empress of Alternia unable to decide if it --EXISTS or not.

hes already )(ERE and you just swam into his mouth with the rest of us C)(UM

That slight twist of a smirk, that heightening of attention and trigger of pleasure and language centers at once - that's the classic sign that John Egbert is about to pull a fast one. And this time you know what it is! You D---ESIGN--ED it after all!

lord of time? i'm not impressed. call me when you find the lord of stories, because time can't interrupt the flow. He tilts his head and frowns for a second, then open-friendly smiles and nods to Dave and Aradia. it's pretty damn fine at helping the narrative along though.

you think your STORIES fuckin matter to )(IM  
you think anyfin you do matters to )(IM or to the UNIVERS---E in the long rudd

Damn rig)(t it does! Your direct, living ancestor spares you a withering glance. You feel a sudden moment of IMPOS--ED F---EAR, a moment of B--EING a PUPP--ET \- and then you feel a wall around you, a gleaming teal thing of will and power.

YOU M1GHT 3XP3CT P3OPL3 TO T4K3 M3 S3R1OUSLY BY NOW.

curse of the late arrival to heroism, pyrope. the engineered psychic powers are a nice touch, peixes the elder, but let the lady have her say.

You don't wait for the foul-mouthed objections you know are coming.

Our story doesn't end )(-ER-E but N-EIT)(-ER does yours! 38‡  You raise your arm again, but this time it doesn't have a MPDE-Launcher popped out of your armor. Just an accusing finger. Killing you would be DUMB AS S)(--ELL.

You smile. This is a S)(ARK BATTL--E, but you brought a sc)(ool along to )(--ELP.

Dave and Aradia move in, and everything past you and her grays out. No PSYC)(IC --ENGIN--ES, no IMMORTAL JO)(N ---EGB--ERT. Just life, and time.

The shadowed hands and appendages that follow Dave touch you, and you flicker through time without ever leaving now.

You see life, and you freeze the image in your mind, every little detail of ganderbulbs and think pan and hear ducts and collapsing and expanding bladder-based aquatic vascular system.

Then Aradia gets to work. The Mage of Time has finished crafting, and the intricate funnel that jumps through you is way, way past your ability to comprehend. But it's very pretty!

And very effective.

In the outside-of-time, you can only track the length of your work by your breaths. It takes a lot, but not an eternity. That much even you can tell.

Your ancestor finally stands from her throne. Her tracksuit hangs pretty loosely over a nine-sweep-old body, and her Gl'bgolyb-mane of hair is shrunk to two thin tails. Her eyes still hold fury - but not power.

T)(is wasn't John's ID--EA. )(--E was FIN--E letting your boss swallow you W)(OL---E!

Your grin is gone now. You are )(--ER IMP--ERIAL COMPASSION now, for as long as it takes you to abdicate anyway. (Even without the corruption of power and the IN--ESCAPABL--E confrontation with LORD --ENGLISH, you're not going to be called something as silly as T)(-E COMPASC--E.)

It was my plan to L--ET YOU LIV--E. But you lost the right to live )(-ER-E!

where you gonna toss M-E shrimp She has to yank her clothes up to keep from stepping on them, but she steps forward. aint NOW)(-ER-E you can throe me i cant swim outta

Try a NOW)(--EN!

You raise your fist in signal. Aradia lets go.

And for the tiniest, most fragile of moments, not even a single pump of a collapsing and expanding bladder-based aquatic vascular system, you see your ancestor, Meenah Peixes, thrown through time.

The throne room is strange in its quiet. The psychic wailing of the )(ID-EOUS GROWT)(S is dead, just like they are.

so. are we done here?

You smile. )(APPY SMIL--E DAMMIT!

shes gone for good from this range of possible histories anyway

ON---E more t)(ing!

You draw your own **Ψdon's Entente** from your sylladex. You put all your strength into this.

OKAY! L---ET'S CLAMSCRAY.

that was so terrible i think you literally damaged my brain

Dave's words echo in the air while Aradia and John tunnel back through this empty hulk to your mighty vessel of war. And your 2x3dent will stay there, in that drifting, powerless, airless vessel. Maybe a long time in the future, humans and trolls cataloguing the history of the war will find it. 

STABB---ED RIG)(T INTO T)(AT T)(RON---E.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm aware how "chum" looks with Meenah's quirk. But the metaphors were too good to pass up!
> 
> And I would have written everything she said in Blingee, but I'm lazy.
> 
>  
> 
> TROLL WAR SPOILER ALERT:
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> I'm posting this now because the repercussions are going to matter for Lost Logs.


End file.
